<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Hopeless Situation by Askafroa</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23679856">A Hopeless Situation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askafroa/pseuds/Askafroa'>Askafroa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A number of complicated situations [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>All alphas have penises, All omegas have vaginas, Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Natasha Romanov, Alpha Pepper Potts, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, Arranged Marriage, Attempted Seduction, Bucky Barnes &amp; Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Crushes, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Gen, Georgian Period, London, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romantic Angst, Sexual Tension, Social Issues, Steve Rogers &amp; Tony Stark Friendship, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Tony Stark Feels, Unrequited Lust</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:02:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,278</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23679856</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askafroa/pseuds/Askafroa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Historical AU, Georgian Era, A/B/O dynamics.</p><p>Having a crush for Mr Rogers, an Omega just like him, is a complicated matter, but Tony didn't expect it to be so difficult. He will have to face many obstacles and make the right choices as he enters adulthood. </p><p>Next part of the fic "An Amoral Situation"<br/>But can be read as a stand alone, there is a summary inside.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Edwin Jarvis &amp; Tony Stark, Howard Stark &amp; Tony Stark, Howard Stark/Maria Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes &amp; Steve Rogers, James "Rhodey" Rhodes &amp; Tony Stark, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Obadiah Stane &amp; Tony Stark, Peggy Carter &amp; Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A number of complicated situations [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705171</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Confession in the garden</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic follows "An Amoral Situation", I don't think you need to read it to understand what is going on in that one but just in case here a short summary :</p><p>Tony Stark is a young Omega noble who will soon enter his twenties. One night, another Omega called Steve Rogers who delivers goods from the local bakery to the Stark family, saves him from an aggressive Alpha. When Tony welcomes him to his home to tend to his wounds, they both realize they feel a strong and mutual attraction. Now, Tony must deal with the aftermath and complicated implications of that crush.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I thank Swisstae once more for their amazing beta-read work ♥️✨I hope you'll enjoy reading it, folks! Have a nice day! </p><p>EDIT : Be attentive of the tags, I've added new ones and corrected a paragraph inside the story. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><strong>A</strong> <strong> Hopeless Situation</strong></p><p>Confession in the garden </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>After a few days of rolling and twisting under his covers, Tony decides it’s now a good time to finally get out of his room, start doing something productive. Eating meals diligently brought by Jarvis while staying in bed was enjoyable for sure. He remembers the savoury taste of creamy pastries, soups, eggs, rolls, peas, and roasted beef on silver platters, how they left the frail trace of a spicy smell behind even after ventilating his room. And yes, such an attitude never harmed anyone before but if Tony wastes another hour to stare at the patterns of his bed canopy curtains or the slight cracks on the flowery wall mouldings, he would go mad! He’s convinced to have indexed all the details of his room by now such as despairing over how uninteresting landscape paintings were because of their redundant style and colours, noticing some aged part on the wallpaper in the left corner behind his chest of drawers. He has counted every hole, each dirty spot, and - dear God - the windows need a good washing. They’re so dusty it’s impossible to have a clear view of the sky. Pale blue. Just like Mr Rog- </p><p> </p><p>Tony rises abruptly on his elbows. He runs his hands through his hair in annoyance, then covers his eyes, hoping it would chase away this uncomfortably arousing picture. Today, he promises himself he will stop going in circles, thinking again and again about this Omega, scrutinizing what he may or may not feel for him in a dozen different angles without any satisfying conclusion. </p><p> </p><p>As a result, Tony feels restless, and shameful too.</p><p> </p><p>Why did he behave in such an impulsive and lewd way that night? He flushes in mortification as he recalls how aroused he had smelt and the wetness dripping on his skin. Mr Rogers had only touched his face yet managed to reduce him to this state! His teachers would have baulked at his tasteless behaviour. Smelling aroused in public is the most embarrassing situation to be in, adults tolerate it when it happens by accident in the early stages of adolescence but he is twenty years old; he should know how to control himself! Jarvis is the one who should have taken care of Mr Rogers wounds. He even volunteered, but Tony had immediately interfered to do it in his stead, rushing to the Omega’ side into such close physical proximity that his mother, who always encourages him to be nurturing and kind to Omegas, would have disapproved. At first, Tony thought he acted out of compassion because he couldn’t bear the sight of an Omega in pain, but he has since realized that an unhealthy dose of dishonesty had clouded his judgment and his morals. He had enjoyed touching Mr Rogers. He had taken advantage of the situation so he could share a private moment with him, regardless of the consequences.</p><p>To what extent does he crave it, how deeply this need is rooted: Tony is not sure. It’s one thing to recognize you want to be closer to another Omega. It’s another to live with this new information and to decide what to do with it. That’s why he needs to define, as clearly as possible, what happened in the library so he could plan what’s ahead of him. First, he has to run through the many potential answers this problematic situation entails, whether he likes them or not. Tony channels his energy inwards, his thoughts like roads displayed on an imaginary map. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>What is the cause of these new and intense feelings? </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>An impulse induced by the danger Mr Rogers and Tony both endured when they were facing that Alpha? Did it spark some sort of temporary bonding between them, triggering their biologies in unsettling ways? It can be. Yet, Tony has no concrete proof to support that. For this hypothesis to be true, he would have to face danger again, in different settings, and in the company of different Omegas to be sure of this. It could be a really interesting experiment, but he fears it wouldn't be approved by society at large, which is quite unfortunate if people ask him. </p><p> </p><p>Unless it's something more problematic, like a genuine attraction similar to the one he used to feel for Mr Stone. The matters of the heart are so complicated sometimes you can feel a powerful crush for someone then finding yourself at a loss when it suddenly disappears  like it never existed in the first place. This happened to Tony on many occasions though he admits he had taken an instant liking to Mr Rogers the moment he came to their house. The blonde Omega kept doing his best at his work, even if his health condition leaves a lot to be desired. Between his difficult breathing, scoliosis, and impaired hearing - Tony even suspects him to have poor eyesight but he never asked him - it’s thanks to his tenacity he survived for so long. Truly, it’s no hardship to admire him or secretly wishing to be his friend. How different it is now. The shift in his feelings had been so intense, Tony wonders if it has ever been here from the beginning, lurking in the corners of his mind, and revealing itself once the opportunity had arisen. </p><p> </p><p>He frowns.</p><p> </p><p>Is it even possible for two Omegas to forge a romantic bond as strong as one between an Alpha and Omega? Furthermore, the need for an Alpha is so overwhelming for people of his kind, especially during heats, it’s almost impossible to deny it or live without it. Betas paired with Omegas are rare for a reason. Unless his teachers had biased opinions on that matter and had taught him wrong for whatever reason. Tony realizes he had learnt as much from his companions as from the education his family provides for him. For, there was a time he heard crude gossips from his group of friends, during an afternoon tea session. They had chatted excitedly about that embarrassing situation where two Omegas, acquaintances of theirs, were rumoured to have been caught in the middle of the night, almost naked and locked in a passionate embrace. Needless to say, no matter how true or false these accusations were, it had ruined their reputation for good. Tony never heard of them again. He wondered at times where they could be.</p><p>It baffles him, in retrospect, how he had denied the reality of these harmless and fun experiences done behind closed doors. He mocked his friends for their credulousness, told them these stories may as well just be tales to dissuade curious or bored Omegas to try the same thing. This way, they won’t diverge from their predictive storylines which are: being attracted to an Alpha, eloping or bonding with an Alpha during a gorgeous ceremony, being cuckolded or unfaithful to their partner, and eventually, on rarer cases, falling in love with a Beta. Their romantic lives are so finely crafted that the peculiar narrative of Omegas supporting and loving each other is a ludicrous idea no one dares to speak about it. Tony himself cannot picture how it could be, though he can agree now that something sexual may spark between two Omegas.</p><p> </p><p>Meeting Mr Rogers once again - even if he dreads the mere idea - would be perfect to challenge the strength of his attraction and desire. Besides, he needs to apologize for the poor way they left each other that night and also for the shameful display he made of himself. He didn’t even have the time to bid him goodnight and to accompany him to the manor’s portal. Tony has to make amends. He can also invite Rhodey to his home so they could spend an afternoon together! His Alpha friend has a worldly point of view on many subjects; between his lower-class upbringing, his stellar social ascension and his many travels in the British Colonies for the Navy, he is the perfect source of information. If there is someone he can trust on this subject, it's Rhodey and no one else. </p><p> </p><p>The prospect of inviting his friend lifts his spirits, a new surge of energy ripples inside his body. Tony puts his feet on the floor, moving his covers aside, ready to finally stand up off his bed. He stops when he takes a look at his bedside table. His mother’s favourite tea service is standing proudly on it, with its striking painted roses arranged in small bouquets, intertwined with golden leaves. A full teacup has been waiting patiently for him this whole time. He contemplates it with curiosity. Tony is not as interested in art as his mother. Far from it. He fails to understand exactly how the rules work when it comes to style, pleasing aesthetics, tasteful decorations or what is the best way to match plates and cutlery together in the dining room, though he tries to fake it as best as he can during social gatherings because that’s what was expected of him. Yet, even though he can’t relate deeply to his mother’s preferences, he always pays attention to what she enjoys the most, and he noticed she had used this service when she was alone or when she received close friends at home. It means she must be the one who prepared this. </p><p> </p><p>Tony smiles fondly; he brings the teacup reverently to his lips and takes a sip. Hot chocolate flows in his mouth, warming his insides in a comforting way. She even thought to add a bit of milk! His quiet moment is suddenly interrupted by tentative knocks on the door. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Master Anthony," Ana asks softly, her voice muffled. “May I come in? Are you fully awake?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Ana!” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Tony puts the teacup back on the platter, clinking the delicate porcelain. He stands up and stretches his arms above his head when Ana rushes in the room with a trolley, saluting him with a quick bow. Suddenly, she stops in her tracks, sniffs around and frowns, her nose wrinkling at the stuffy odours emanating from the sheets. Tony gives her an apologetic smile, but it comes off more like a grimace, one of his hands massaging his neck in embarrassment. He did stay too long here. It stirs Ana into motion. She becomes a commanding presence, performing each action with sharp and efficient gestures: removing the tea service, changing the dressing of his pillows then taking care of those covering his thick blankets. She puts them back into proper shape, with some good perfunctory slaps, before folding them in a neat pile at the end of the bed. Once it’s done, she gathers all the smelly sheets on the ground, walks to the windows and opens them in a satisfying clank. Dust swirls through the sunlight rays. Fresh air, at last. Tony takes a deep breath. He moves to fetch some clothes for the day in his wardrobe while Ana is pushing all the dirty items inside a basket she carries under her armpit. She walks to the door and turns around to face him with a knowing smile.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I’m taking those to the laundry, then I'll run a bath for you, but don’t take too much time. Your mother is expecting you.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Oh. That was not part of his day’s planning.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>***</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Tony fiddles nervously with the buttons of his left sleeve. He didn’t spend any time with his parents when they came back from their travels two weeks ago. He retreated in his bedroom and refused to speak to anyone, except for Jarvis so he could rest alone. He can still recall the shock caused by the assault finally catching up to him, his body shaken to the core for days, remnants of fear and frustrated desire looping in his head. It seemed a better idea at the time than holding any conversation. Jarvis chided him for his attitude of course but Tony can be relentless when it comes to protecting his privacy, especially in times of duress. Unwittingly, the face of Mr Rogers comes to his mind once more. His soft touch, his smell, his hair, his voice-</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “It’s okay. You’re doing good.”  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Each detail appears in flashes, much brighter than they were when Tony and Mr Rogers stood together in that damned library. The colours are enhanced to the point that the vines streaming on his home’s walls are as vivid as the old oak tree’s leaves standing in the distance, intensifying even the flowers and their perfume. Tony feels a bit dizzy. He stumbles and clings to some bricks of the main arch leading to the garden to reclaim some stability. The coarse stone under his fingertips anchors him. He blinks rapidly, his scattered thoughts reconnecting to each other one by one after a few minutes. He finally manages to regain his composure as he turns his head to look at the garden, welcoming him with a nice flagstone pathway leading to the centre; that same centre being connected to four smaller tracks made of gravel and grass. Each one of them guides the visitors to four different inviting parts. As Tony ventures in the garden, walking down the steps and through the pathway, the repetitive sound of his feet crushing some pebbles appease his anxious thoughts. His mother is very insightful but he doubts she already knows exactly what he discovered about himself in his time of seclusion. He guesses she only wishes to see his face, to know how he fares and if he needs anything for the upcoming weeks. Perhaps they would talk about the new ball they would attend at the Van Dyne’s estate soon. There is no legitimate reason to be concerned over this exchange.</p><p> </p><p>Tony slows down. His gaze focuses on the rose bushes circling a fountain right in front of him. Anyone could contemplate the playful water on stone benches artfully placed there. The silhouette of his mother is sitting on one of them. He moves forward, and finally, he can see her, impeccably dressed except for her soot-covered apron. Her rolled-up sleeves reveal her delicate forearms as her long and pale fingers are cutting dandelion’s roots with a pruner and disposing of them in a white bowl next to her. There are a fuming teapot and two teacups on a wooden table, three baskets holding European centaury, camomile, blessed thistle and red roses. She is softly glowing under the sun, unaware of Tony approaching, tenderly watching over her. He clasps his hands to announce his presence.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Mother!" </p><p> </p><p>"Antonio!" His mother lifts her head, a brilliant smile on her face. "I was wondering when you would show yourself! Come! Sit with me, my love." She pats affectionately on the free spot next to her.</p><p> </p><p>"Thank you, mother.” Tony joins her on the bench. “You did a fine picking here!” He slips the dandelion’s petals through his fingers. “Our stomachs won’t have any trouble during the winter thanks to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm, I hope so.” She nods languidly. “I thought of growing mulberry trees for next year. Its berries are very good for sore throats.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Then, she stays silent for a few but long minutes. Tony grips his breeches, his thigh jolting up and down. Why did she stop talking? Didn’t she have something to say to him? He’s feeling tense as the silence grows. No. That won’t do. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Do you need help to harvest some more?” One of his hands indicates the garden in a jerk. “I could supply you with some bark or…”</p><p> </p><p>“Antonio. Please, stay still. I don’t need anything.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>His mother nods firmly. She maintains her fond expression but Tony can see a hard glint in her eyes. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Well, in that case-”</p><p> </p><p>“Be patient my dear, I’m almost finished,” she interrupts in a soothing tone.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>He sighs in capitulation and waits for the final root to be snipped as he looks at the sky. Once he hears the sound of his mother putting her pruner back on the table, she kisses his cheek tenderly.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Don’t upset yourself, tesoro mio,” his mother says softly. “This exchange won’t be as uncomfortable as you may think. What you share with me is safe from your father.” </p><p> </p><p>“I know, mother.” He smiles. “You are my most precious confidant.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, why did you avoid me?”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>She keeps smiling but there is a pained edge in the tone of her voice. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I understand you needed to be on your own for a while, after what happened to you. Perhaps, you were repulsed by having an Alpha around with your father coming back,” She pats his cheek. “But I thought...Oh. That’s silly of me, but I thought we would…I guess I just wanted to talk to you. To hear your voice. I was so scared for you.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Tony sighs. He brushes his forehead against his mother’s while he untangles his arms to embrace her by the waist and lets his scent rushing on the outside of his body to assuage her sadness. His mother sniffs, she wipes a few tears away before they roll on her red cheeks and ruin her makeup. Tony closes his eyes to smell if she feels slightly better now. He startles when she cradles his face. Her scent is full of relief and tenderness. It mollifies his hard resolve to hide at all cost what he felt and thought of Mr Rogers since that fateful night. His mother would understand. She could help him.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Now, do you wish to speak to me?” she asks gently. </p><p> </p><p>“I...I don’t know where to start. I’ve been restless...” Tony answers bashfully. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re still reminiscing about the Alpha who hurt you?” she inquires with a worried glance at her son.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Tony looks at the fountain so he won’t meet her gaze directly. He lets the silence linger on a bit longer to gather his courage. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, but there is… there is something else. Someone I met...No. I already knew him, no, saw him sometimes. But just for a bit of time. Well, this person protected me from the assault, the one Mrs Woodward mentioned in her letters and...” Tony stammers while rubbing his hands. “We shared a close time in the library because I tended to his wounds. And I… kept thinking about him.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>He stops. This is the hardest part. His mother folds her hands carefully on her knees. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Mrs Woodward didn’t say your protector stayed at our place. With you.” His mother frowns. </p><p> </p><p>“Please, don’t be mad at her!” Tony rushes to placate her by covering her hands with his. “I asked her not to write to you about it. I thought...Well. An assault was enough of bad news, if I said I welcomed a stranger to heal his wounds even for a short time, you and father would be so angry. You would have cancelled your trip...”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course we would have! You’re an Omega. What if that stranger was ill-intentioned? Yes, he did save you, but he could have used this opportunity to attack you or steal anything in our home!” His mother retorts in an outburst of indignation.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>She breathes through her nose slowly to calm herself.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“That was reckless of you, Antonio, very reckless. Why did you take that risk?” His mother stares at him judgmentally. Her tone is calmer than before but still icy. </p><p> </p><p>“I had the whole staff protecting me!” Tony stands up and starts to pace, rising his arms in aggravation. “I’m not a child who always needs to be watched for every minor thing! Besides, he was an Omega! He's one of the most gentle and brave souls I ever encountered. He would have never hurt me…”</p><p> </p><p>“An Omega.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Her sentence silents Tony immediately. He forgot he asked Mrs Woodwards to keep this significant detail out from her letter. He gulps. His mother’s gaze turns calculating, her mouth slightly agape. She’s looking at Tony as if she’s noticing something new about her son she never did before and she’s feeling uncertain about it. Tony feels his throat constricting. His brain runs wild with many sentences he could say to repair the damage, words shifting, forming then vanishing. Even with his best efforts, nothing precise can escape his lips to reach his mother. She inhales, a thin-veiled current of dread filling her eyes.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“An Omega, you refused to mention to us, is the reason why you felt so troubled you had to isolate yourself. From me. From your father,” she states in a low voice, detaching each word methodically. Yet, fear and uncertainty are showing in her posture, her shoulders and back straightened, her neck rigid. Tony can smell something sour in her usually sweet and honeyed Omega scent. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Never in his life has Tony felt a single misplaced word could sentence him so badly his mother would have a completely different opinion of him. He massages his breastbone in the hope to appease his breathing; his ribs constricting under the pressure of two imaginary strong hands compressing them on each side. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I...I wouldn’t formulate it this way.” Tony stammers with a fake confident smile he hopes would be enough of a wall to protect his beating heart. Any pretence is necessary to escape this situation, any illusion of control. “Yes, I thought about him but...I was most troubled by the assault. The memory of it. It was the first time I suffered from an Alpha’s disgusting behaviour.” He huffs. </p><p> </p><p>“He must have done quite an impression on you if the memory of this Omega is stronger than what this Alpha did to you,” she murmurs. “Don’t you think?”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Tony couldn’t find anything to counter her words. All the fights and fear slowly evaporate from him. Nothing happened as he expected. She guessed everything by herself, didn't soothe his worries but exacerbate them and he has been unable to hide his feelings correctly. The least he can do is admit she is right. He faces her, his heart pounding against his ribcage. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“He did, yes.” Tony blushes. </p><p> </p><p>“And are you still thinking about him?” His mother’s voice tremors at the end of her sentence. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Tony wets his lips. What he will say will change what she thinks of him. Either he lies, pretends his attraction is almost gone. They could fool each other until they got tired of this new superficial relationship they built out of comfort or he finishes to reveal everything to the cost of putting a strain on their bond. How foolish he has been to think he would feel lighter by the end of this conversation.</p><p> </p><p>But it's too late now. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I do,” Tony says in a hollow voice. “I understand…it’s not something approved nor rightfully explained by anyone in our society.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>His mother nods, her lips set in a grim line. She crosses her arms and rises to stand in front of him, gripping her elbows tightly as if she has to refrain herself to hold him in fear she would crumble under the weight of his admission. Tony thinks he couldn't bear it if she touches him. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Yes, it’s not. Tomorrow, I’ll take you with me to London. There is something you need to know.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>***</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The next day, his mother takes him to a morbid place in London. Tony blanches when he learns that it was there that two low-class Omegas were beaten, then hanged publicly, for they were caught having sex in a brothel. Alphas knotting one another receive the same treatment. As a Great Britain’s citizen, you can escape a brutal sentence thanks to your social standing, but nothing can save you from being exiled. During the entire trip back to the manor, Tony’s mother has grasped his hand and hasn’t let go when she mentions how a couple of Omegas in the countryside had tried to marry, by pretending one of them was an Alpha. The ruse didn’t last long, and they were forced to divorce. Some said they left the country; others claimed they were shipped away against their volition to an unknown place. No one had wasted their time to look for them. They were forgotten. Tony has crushed his mother’s fingers in petty retaliation. She isn’t responsible for any of this, but by God, he never felt so angry before! It’s as if someone has ripped a blindfold he wore his entire life without knowing it, and he was forced to see the truth even if it’s painful for his sight. Everything is ugly now. As the carriage follows its track offhandedly, Tony glares at the streets, glares at the buildings, and the strangers attending to their daily lives. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>When they arrive at their home, he can't help but wonder why he had been so naïve and ignorant for so long, why he had expected anything different, from the government, from the people. It brings the two young faces of the Omegas he used to know in the forefront of his mind. Were they forced apart from their respective families as well? Shunned away in some foreign country? In France, Spain or farther away? Was there any hope for them, for him?</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>His conversation with Rhodey had put final damage to his battered hope. His friend had simply refused to continue the conversation. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Forget about this Tony. Mr Rogers, your attraction,” he had said gravely, sipping his tea then patting his hand in comfort. “Forget about all this; it’s much better this way. Besides, it’s not as if Alphas don’t appeal to you, right? Marry a good one, and you’ll be safe and content for the rest of your life.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>When Tony asked him if he would ever want his hand in marriage, Rhodey had shaken his head and ruffled his hair. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I don' wish to bond, Tony. I have more important matters in mind.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Rhodey had looked outside the window with an indecipherable expression. Tony had wondered what he may be thinking about, so he did the same thing as his friend. The view of the garden, its trees and walls, had ignited a spark in Tony's chest. There is a landscape behind those walls. There will always be something ahead of him. </p><p> </p><p>He had known at that moment what to do. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>***</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Jarvis doesn’t say anything when Tony stays in his father's workshop to spend his few and precious hours of building, dismantling rifles and pistols, instead of saluting Mr Rogers and his Alpha partner when they deliver the usual bags of flour, sugar, stacks of eggs, and bottles of milk. Jarvis keeps his mouth shut as well when Tony draws the curtains closed so he wouldn’t see the blonde Omega's tired and resigned face outside the windows. And Jarvis doesn’t utter a single word when he finds the young master crying in the library one night, but he does bring a cover to warm him, some sheets of paper and drawing tools he could use to make progress in the schematics of new vessels he recently imagined. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>And finally, there is a time when Mr Rogers doesn’t come anymore. Someone new replaced him, more efficient, with no ailments to slow him down. Mr Barnes follows him a few days later. Jarvis cannot tell if it’s a good thing or not, but he notices his master has been much more proactive in his hobbies since the news reached him. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Making Plans</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I started this story with something much shorter in mind but once I started diving into research for this era, I just couldn't stop @_@;<br/>I hope you'll appreciate this new chapter :3 </p><p>It has now been edited so it makes more sense chronogically speaking !</p><p>Please mind the tags before reading.<br/>A few warnings here beforehand:<br/>-There is a mention of an attempted rape.<br/>-There is a sexual fantasy standing place for one of the main characters.<br/>If you feel uncomfortable with reading it, please close the tab and open a new one.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thank you Swisstae for having cheer-reading me and correcting my mistakes :3 &lt;3 You're always so helpful! Have a nice day folks! I hope you'll enjoy the story as we go deeper into it! </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>A Hopeless Situation</b>
</p><p>Making plans </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The workhouse is busy with chatter and cheers. The windows filter sun rays, dividing the heated room into rectangular pieces of light and shadows. Compared to other workhouses, this one is quite clean, free from too much dust. Its walls are bare, and not covered in food waste or filth, like in other places Steve had found himself unfortunate enough to work in before when he was a child.</p><p> </p><p>It’s been five months since Bucky and him had been replaced at the bakery they used to deliver goods from to wealthy families, some living in London, others inhabiting their countryside estate just a few miles away from the city, like the Stark family. Bucky had been a lifesaver once more. He found him a new job in this workhouse Steve now resides in and only a week after he lost his employment. For his part, Bucky resigned from the bakery after a terrible dispute he had with its owner for not taking Steve back. The Alpha still ruminates over it sometimes, but Steve thinks it’s better this way for Bucky succeeded in becoming an apprentice at a workshop where all sorts of carriages were built and repaired in the north of London. Thus, their source of income has increased nicely, thanks to their combined efforts.</p><p> </p><p>In the company of thirty other Omegas separated into three groups, sweating through the new clothes their wealthy masters have bestowed on them for they were considered old-fashioned or too small for their sizes, Steve is actively sewing at one of the overloaded tables. Rich fabrics, frills, ribbons are passed from hand to hand, all covered in blisters and pointed needle cuts for the most inexperienced ones. As they struggle to repair some used stays and petticoats, Steve is working on a more complicated piece: embroidered silks for a formal gown. He has the keenest artistic sense in the entire group. That’s why he’s chosen most of the time to achieve the most sophisticated tasks by following patterns, though it stresses him to finish something so beautiful on a tight schedule. He has to be more efficient. Pearls of sweat pile up at the base of his hair, threatening to flow on his face. Steve is about to mop his brow with his hand when a handkerchief given by the coworker on his left crops up in his field of view. It is Angela, a beautiful blonde Omega. Steve gives her a bashful smile. Her name had marked him unlike the others for she has been very amicable with him since he started to work here, and people who aren't scornful towards him because of his scrawny and lanky figure are extremely rare. Even if he’s slow to reach for the handkerchief, she smiles gently at him. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Thank you.” Steve grins at her. His voice is so hoarse he wonders if she managed to understand his words. </p><p> </p><p>“You should rest a bit,” she says with a concerned frown. “You don’t look so well.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll drink water later,” he answers as he taps his forehead until it’s dry. “Here, thank you.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Steve gives the handkerchief back to her, forming sentences in his mind and hoping they could spark an interesting conversation for the both of them, but the sound of the ticking clock warns him he has to rush. So, he returns to his task regretfully. She nods at him politely, then takes an admirative glance at the golden flowers he’s embroidering. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“It looks so pretty,” Angela murmurs in awe. “Where did you learn to sew like this?” The question, though innocent, rises Steve’s hackles.</p><p> </p><p>“My mother,” Steve says incisively, immediately regretting how he sounded. He already feels tears coming to his eyes. She has just asked a simple question. He has no reason to feel so annoyed at her, he can’t expect her to know- “She’s the one who taught me. I - Sorry, I don’t wish to talk about it.”  </p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay. Mine died too.” She shrugs with a despondent smile. Steve raises his head abruptly. He guesses she must have recognized the reason behind his attitude by the sour smell of his grief. “I understand if you don’t want to share anything about her."</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Steve beams gratefully at Angela, and she beams back at him. They work silently for a moment, sharing some shy smiles from time to time, but they’re disturbed by a couple of Omegas passing by behind them, chatting loudly, then interrupting themselves when they glance at Steve’s craft. Before he can say anything to stop them, he finds himself pressed against the table as they push his back forward to take a closer look, bumping into Angela at the same time. She throws a hard scowl in their direction.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Oh, lord! It’s beautiful!” One of them gushes at the flower patterns, lifting their hand as if they imagine touching it. </p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me, would you put it under the light, please? So, we can have a better view!” The other pleads, their eyes sparkling with an eager glint. </p><p> </p><p>“The lot of you! Can’t you see he’s busy?” Angela hisses.</p><p> </p><p>“It's fine. It's fine.” Steve says, raising his hands to placate her. “Come on. Give me a bit of space, I’ll show you.” He adds with an aggravated sigh. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>He stands up with the tissue in his arms once the other Omegas have ceased to stick to him, aligning themselves so it looks like Steve is walking in the middle of a royal alley with nobles surrounding him on each side. Once he’s close enough to a window, he opens his arms as wide as he can to display all the patterns on the silks. Light pinks, blues and greens are shining, interwoven in different flower shapes on the creamy base. The whole ensemble glows peacefully under the sun. Some Omegas have stopped in their motions to stare wistfully at the cloth Steve is showing delicately, like a precious treasure only reserved for the gazes of a selected few. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Whoever that berk who will wear this is, they’re very lucky.” An Omega says in the back of the room, breaking that floating moment they were all absorbed in.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>A collective sigh follows that statement. Steve takes this as his cue to go back to his chair. He applies his final touches, checking if all the colourful threads are securely attached. He folds the garment in a neat square looking undisturbed and untouched by any hand who may have profaned its beauty. A few minutes after Steve drinks a full cup of water, he leaves the room, a bag on his shoulder, ready to deliver the product to the Beta shopper living not so far away from the workhouse. The flow of conversations starts again once he closes the door behind him like nothing had troubled it, especially not something smooth and beautiful to dream about. </p><p> </p><p>Like the vivid brown eyes, Steve can’t get out of his head each time he goes to sleep. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>***</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Antonio, dearest. You received gifts!” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>His mother’s joyful voice coming from the house breaks Tony’s reverie. The weather is warm, the sun high in the sky, so the three Starks have decided to eat their breakfast and enjoy it under the refreshing shadows of trees in the garden. Teacups filled with hot teas and coffees stand in front of each one of them. If Tony’s eyes bulge at the news, his father doesn’t look stunned by them. He eats in short mouthfuls the rolls served by Ana while reading some new book about research in naval engineering Tony would try to take later from his library. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“From whom, this time?” Tony frowns, flustered but also annoyed at the situation. He takes a piece of bread out of a basket and breaks it in small parts to release his energy onto something. </p><p> </p><p>“Lady Virginia Potts,” his mother announces regally, her pale yellow dress fluttering in playful waves as she joins them. She holds a small book and flowers in one hand. “This woman is quite diligent in her pursuit.”  </p><p> </p><p>“Isn’t it the fourth time she offered courting gifts?” his phlegmatic father asks, turning one page after the other. "I lost track of the count." He swipes away nonchalantly the crumbs out of his book before closing it, completely at odds with the chaos disrupting his son’s mind. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, my love! Four times in a month. Can you imagine?” she answers back in a triumphant tone, her curls bouncing to the rhythm of her energetic nods. She throws a cunning look at Tony. “But it was to be expected. Our son <em> did </em> make a strong impression during the Van Dyne’s ball. I think we didn’t receive that many letters two years ago when he came out for his first dinner party in London!”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Tony blushes at his mother’s praise. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>"It was a very entertaining evening," he says, stirring his spoon inside his coffee before taking a long sip. "People were exceedingly nice to me."</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p><em> With their intentions too much on display, </em> Tony adds bitterly in his mind when he remembers two or three Alphas too forward in their advances, but he refrains himself to mention it so he won’t spoil his mother’s joy. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>"Of course. You aged well, my dear; your looks are much more refined now." His mother gently puts the gifts near his plate as if to bring proof of his beauty and its effects on others. "It was just a matter of time before our friends and neighbours would notice it." </p><p> </p><p>"Well, as long as he marries a wealthy Alpha so they can keep an eye on his cousin, we shall all be fine," his father snaps harshly, opening his newspapers like a shield he brandishes between himself and any argument his spouse or son would throw at him. </p><p> </p><p>"Father," Tony groans "Must we speak of Gregory at this hour?"</p><p> </p><p>"Well, yes. We must. It displeases me as much as you, but we cannot avoid to speak about that subject any longer." He lowers his newspapers to pointedly stare at his son. "He heard you haven't married yet and sent me a letter complimenting our house, and how much he would <em> love </em> to relax in our gardens by your side. It was quite a bore to read, I can assure you…" </p><p> </p><p>"The nerve of this man!" His mother flushes in anger. "What did you answer him?" </p><p> </p><p>"The usual politeness but no proposition to invite him here. He's insufferable but we must concede he does have a point." His father’s steady gaze roams from his mother back to him. It feels like a long needle piercing through his skull. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>A small pause hangs in the air like an invisible hatchet ready to fall and sever Tony's head from the rest of his body. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>"Your mother and I cannot guarantee your financial security if anything bad happens to us both. Our estate, our house, it will all belong to your cousin. Unless you wish to depend on his unreliable charity for the rest of your days, I’d strongly advise you to find a suitable mate this year, as soon as possible." </p><p> </p><p>And the hatchet falls. </p><p> </p><p>This whole inheritance mess is the result of a mistake from his paternal grandfather, the late Edmund Stark, who put an entail to his estate. <em> Only an Alpha deserves to inherit these lands </em> , he claimed, <em> for Omegas have no discipline and no sound mind to take care of it</em>. Having two Alpha sons had made his grandfather immensely proud, yet he favoured Howard over Edward. As he grew older, he refused to divide his property, so Tony’s father inherited the whole estate. Edward received a house in the countryside he could live in comfortably thanks to Howard, but his rank in society had lowered significantly. Fortunately, he was good-natured, he never harboured any resentment towards Howard who always supported him financially and encouraged him in his military career. His fate turned brighter when he married the heiress of a wealthy commercial family and soon regained his prestigious social status. Years went by, but none of the brothers managed to break their father’s entail for they found themselves in a delicate situation: Howard and Maria had trouble to conceive an heir. Since the two brothers were courteous men and wished to respect their father’s wishes, they vowed that the first Alpha child born from one of them will inherit their estates and the manors they possessed. Edward and his wife soon gave birth to Gregory. Yet, a surprise disturbed their carefully-laid plans a few years later: Maria almost lost her life when she finally succeeded to deliver a son to Howard. It changed everything.</p><p> </p><p>Tony soon proves to be extremely clever, pragmatic and sensible in learning how to attend to the estate’s economic affairs. He knows how to rule a house and its staff; people enjoy to gravitate around him in social gatherings. Gregory is popular as well but he’s much lazier and complacent in comparison; unlike Tony, he hardly takes any interest in the Stark industry and in learning how to deal with the economic issues he may face in the future. Even Edward, who had spoiled Gregory since he was a child, laments over his son’s careless nature, and how he wishes him to be more like his nephew. Therefore, his father and uncle tacitly agreed that the best option would be for Tony to marry a wealthy Alpha. It would bring him stability but also power to intervene if his cousin manages the family’s propriety in the worst possible ways. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>"Darling, you can't throw such an ultimatum! He is twenty, he has a large dowry and plenty of admirers! We have nothing to worry about," his mother says irritatedly, agitating her hands in Tony's direction. </p><p> </p><p>"That is precisely where you lack insight, my love." His father's voice drops an octave. "Our son is running out of time. We travel a lot, anything can happen to us. And you fell terribly ill last year, have you forgotten? It tired your body.” He makes a pause by finishing the last drops of his coffee, his expression much sombre now. “We must not count on our health, be ready for any plausible outcome. Besides, Tony is old enough to hear about this."</p><p> </p><p>"Even if Tony finds no husband or spouse, my family will always welcome him." She twists her hands on her lap, dignified and resolute. </p><p> </p><p>"What? Your nieces in Milan?" He laughs unkindly. "They're children! They may love him now, but believe me, once they get married, it will change. Their future husbands may not like him nor want to be charitable towards him."</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>His mother lowers her chagrined face to the ground. Tony puts his hand on her knee to comfort her, his mouth stretched in a flat line. They both know how his father is right about the situation, but none of them appreciates to hear it. At least, he has the good sense of being self-conscious about how his frankness can be damaging for others, but he won’t make any apology even if the atmosphere is so loaded they don’t dare to say anything else. His father is indeed very talented to ruin good breakfasts. </p><p> </p><p>Tony rests his head on his mother’s shoulder for a moment, then he makes a decision. He grabs the flowers, the book, and pats his mother’s joined hands in a clap. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“It’s fine, mother. Thank you for bringing Lady Virginia Potts’ gifts to me, I’ll answer her.” Tony says, rising from his chair.</p><p> </p><p>“You will?” His mother asks, her whole stance filled with fragile hope. “I didn’t have the time to make better acquaintances with her but she seemed quite...proper, didn’t she?”</p><p> </p><p>“Her aunt told me she’s studying in trades in London and is very good at it. One of the best in her classes.” Tony’s father nods with a gentler tone to convey he feels sorry for his earlier crudity, it’s the best he can do to ease others when he’s being too rough. “She showed more maturity than people of her age, unlike that Alpha who tried to coerce him to be his dancing partner a second time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, yes! He had no sense of propriety. What was his name?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mr Hammer,” Tony says, feeling sick just by mentioning his name. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>He nods at his parents, thanking them for the breakfast and retreats inside of the house to finish his latest project in his father’s workshop. He leaps up the stairs, fuming.</p><p> </p><p>Mr Hammer. A slimy Alpha, confident, ambitious and completely unashamed of how ridiculous he looks in public. Brash, inelegant, those were the first words Tony thought when he faced him with a forced smile. People seemed to only tolerate him because they were either too polite not to invite him or too mindful of how rich he is, how generous he could be with people he considers his close friends. He had tried to monopolize Tony’s attention during the entire ball. He had even dared to touch the back of his neck during their dance, pretending the foul gesture was accidental when his smile had said the opposite. Tony had wanted to push him away to the cost of disrupting the dancers around him. It’s Lady Virginia Potts’ sweet manners barely covering her barbed remarks thrown at the Alpha’s mortified face which had saved them both their reputations. When Tony had wanted to sit near the opened windows to get some fresh air, she had dutifully accompanied him only using her elbow as support for his hand. She had sat next to him until he felt better, her protective Alpha scent blocking all the other smells around. Tony had raised his gaze to thank her. He noticed for the first time that night how clear her blue eyes were under the candlelights of the ceiling, how fair and unblemished her skin was, how brightly her long reddish-blond hair shone. </p><p> </p><p>They danced twice, enraptured in their conversations. Tony hadn’t resisted her offer. His heart had skipped a beat the few times her gaze locked on his. He heard many people muttering in his back, considering how lovely they looked together, wondering if Lady Virginia Potts would court him or not. She had blushed demurely when she admitted she did found him fascinating to talk to, never interrupting him when he had spoken with pride about the recent weapons for heavy artillery his father had created and would soon show. She shared some of her achievements at her classes and personal ideas for trade with other countries. All in all, the ball had been very pleasant in her company. If her hand had lingered on his arm a bit too long when she walked him alongside his mother to their carriage, he didn’t mention it. If he remarked how she shared some similarities with Mr Rogers, he keeps it to himself.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>***</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Steve stares angrily at the ceiling, his arms crossed behind his head. Bucky is late. They recently found a decent tavern in town, two weeks ago. They chose to rent a room there tonight for a good price, so they could release some tension and joyously mate in the best and most comfortable conditions. Thankfully it was on the borders of London, far from the slums, closer to the countryside with a clear river not too far away, so they can get water to clean themselves a bit after their frolicking. Steve feels extremely grateful he met Bucky when they were children, for he is the safest partner he could find around. In London, there are some houses lower classes Omegas and Alphas may use when they wish to mate privately, instead of doing it in some disgusting alleys, late at night, because they don’t have a place to live in. Bucky and Steve could have gone there since it’s free but it’s rampant with randy - on the borders of threatening - Alphas in a rut. There was a time Steve was frightened one of them would force his way into his room to assault him right after Bucky left to take a piss outside. Fortunately, he came back at the right moment to chase him away. He still has goosebumps when he thinks about it. He had only been seventeen. Steve loathes these houses so much. </p><p> </p><p>To make the matter worse, hygiene was very low. Well, it was low everywhere in the streets, but somehow, probably because of promiscuity, it was even worse there. Steve always felt it was an open field where diseases seemed to spread fast. He knows barely anything about medicine but if there is one thing he’s good at is making connections. He noticed his health was slightly better and more stable when he takes a regular washing. Bucky follows his example for he has faith in his practical judgement. Steve has enough health problems on his own, he doesn’t need his life to be more complicated because he wandered in the wrong kind of places. The small tavern’s room feels like a manor in comparison to where they used to sleep.</p><p> </p><p>A most convenient place to be in heat. Speaking of which, his skin has started to prickle since yesterday as if a thousand warm ants are running under it. Tomorrow, he will start to leak and become a desperate moaning mess once again, for his utmost embarrassment. Thank God, Bucky was in a too much similar state to make fun of him in these situations. Steve turns his head on the pillow to the sound of something clicking in the doorknob. He stands on his elbows, not wanting to rise from the comfortable bed, especially not to welcome his Alpha friend who must have taken a detour to reach him. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“What took you so long?” Steve asks in annoyance.</p><p> </p><p>“Someone is moody, today.” Bucky’s chuckle resonates in the room, his back turned to the door to safely close it. “Hello to you too.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Steve rolls his eyes. He can smell a mix of sugar and spice coming from Bucky’s skin. That bloody idiot.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“You’re unbelievable. I told you to come clean right after work, but you came to her first!” Steve throws a pillow at his friend’s face, meeting its target squarely on the nose.</p><p> </p><p>“Oomph!” </p><p> </p><p>“You’d better scrub that knot clean, Bucky! I swear to God - you had but one thing to do!”</p><p> </p><p>“Relax, Stevie,” Bucky says with a swagger in his walk as he bends low to pour water from a pitcher in a porcelain basin on the floor Steve had previously brought. He takes one of the bar of soap on the dresser. “We just kissed and rutted against each other for a bit, that’s all. No clothes off. It’s not my fault if I can’t get rid of her scent.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you’ll still take a good washing, you hear me?” Steve sniffs in disdain. He feels his body growing warmer as Bucky takes his trousers off, showing his strong thighs and his gorgeous ass to Steve's hungry gaze. </p><p> </p><p>“Aye, aye, captain.” Bucky mocks him, putting his body even more on display to rankle the aroused Omega.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The night will be long. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>***</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>For Steve, heats are always a blurry and frantic mess of heightened sensations, lubrification mixed with sweat, Bucky’s dick sliding in and out, and short breaks for Steve’s fragile heart to rest because its beating was either too fast or too slow for no reason during the day. Sex, unfortunately, tends to increase the symptoms. Bucky intervenes immediately at the first signs, his calming pheromones appeasing him rapidly. It does the trick. Steve would say it’s even quite helpful at some times because it forces Bucky to slow down and to take his time for Steve’s pleasure, his hips rolling more seductively against Steve’s thinner ones, plunging his dick in his cunt slower. As Steve rolls on his back for Bucky to take him from behind, something wicked sparkles in the Alpha’s eyes. Steve should feel a bit alarmed by that - unwittingly aroused too - his friend can be such a trickster in bed when he feels like it but he lowers his defences when Bucky limits himself to caress his bony hips. He leaves a trail of kisses from his pointed shoulder blades to his neck where his bonding gland is pulsating, and then he dares to murmur:</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Come on, Stevie. Close your eyes and think of Mr Stark.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Steve moans in abandon when he imagines the beautiful Omega in his mind. His hands would be much softer than Bucky because he doesn’t have to work as hard as they do. It would be delightful to feel them on his skin, how they would be caressing every part they could reach. Steve hides his blushing face in the pillows so Bucky won't see his expression but stirs his buttocks up to convey how aroused and needy he feels. And so, Bucky delivers with deeper thrusts. </p><p> </p><p>Sex with Mr Stark wouldn’t be a rushed affair like it is at the moment; it wouldn’t feel like masturbating with a partner. No, they would both be languid about it, sharing sweet kisses after sweet kisses as if they have all the time in the world with no one who would dare to interrupt them. Mr Stark would coyly disrobe himself in front of him, his long eyelashes fluttering at Steve, shadowing him with his fuller, taller figure. Steve never saw him naked, of course, but thanks to an extensive staring from a while ago he guessed the shape of his strong limbs through his clothing, his slender waist leaving no room for imagination. </p><p> </p><p>Mr Stark would crawl naked on the bed and lounge there, waiting for Steve to come to him with bated breath. Steve would first caress him, his firm thighs, his arms, then the curve of his bottom, with feather-like touches only because he thinks Mr Stark craves the softest sensations. He would peck his erected nipples before sucking them, rolling his tongue on the light chestnut buds, eliciting moans the brunet Omega couldn't contain even if he wished to. Then, after Steve finishes to mark his collarbone, Mr Stark's red lips would open like an invitation, begging for more kisses, a distorted picture of the night they found themselves in the library. Steve would provide for him because he wants to be tender with the lovely Omega but not too much or he would be too greedy about it. So, he would refrain from kissing his swollen lips after the third time. Mr Stark would complain, wouldn't he? Who is Steve to deny him such pleasure when he offers himself so generously? It's only when he's on the brink of tears that Steve would gently spread his thighs to reveal his leaking cunt, hidden behind brown curls. What a glorious sight it would be.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Please,” he begs, shaking his round hips up to meet Steve’s mouth approaching his intimate part. "Please, Mr Rogers."</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Steve comes hard with the culmination of Bucky’s hitting his sweet spot just right where it should, and the imaginary vision of Mr Stark’s gorgeous features strained by intense pleasure, sobbing unabashedly as Steve licks and eats his cunt. The echoes of his voice dissolve into the night when Steve and Bucky’s arousal peak drop down. After they wiped away their mutual dried fluids from their bodies, Steve rolls on Bucky's side. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I've never seen you so besotted before, Stevie,” Bucky smirks, throwing a sly glance at the blonde Omega resting on his shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>“Shut it, Buck,” Steve mumbles with a tired smile on his face.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re welcome.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>***</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>After a few days, when the heat is completely over and the pair is ready to leave the tavern, the blonde Omega decides it’s time to confess something.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I'm sick of London, Bucky.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The brunet Alpha slowly turns around to face him, a serious expression on his face. He’s not smiling at all. Steve wets his lips, he stammers.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I - I know you found a really good job. Mine’s good too but-”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not enough for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bucky, it’s getting more awful each year! Everybody knows it. There’s dirt everywhere in the streets, we see dead children in some places. I swear there is more every time I go check!  I just - I just think we won’t last long if we stay here.” Steve squares his shoulders, his crossed arms stiffly shielding his small body. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>They never talked about all the rancid-smelling corpses accumulating in the open air while walking in London before, perhaps because they both knew they would be uncomfortable to mention it, and realize how indifferent they came to feel about this situation. That city made them live near things they wouldn’t have stood to see in normal circumstances. Who knew where it could escalate? They could be the next people to be buried in the overflowed cemeteries in a month or a week. This constant fear had been a part of their daily lives from a long time, but Steve deeply feels in his bones that both of them deserve better. And now, it’s the right moment to make some real change.  </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Stevie,” James says, clearly disturbed by the conversation, the wavering tone of his voice betraying him. “You've got to be blind not to see how rotten it becomes, but not everything is so horrible. We have auditoriums to go to, gardens, some exhibitions you like to see, even friends! And jobs! Where else do you want to find one? There’s almost none in the countryside. They're all taken!”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Steve massages both sides of his face. “I know it’s very hard but-”</p><p> </p><p>“What about that rich handsome Omega you fancy?” James interrupts smugly. “You could work for him, see him every day. It would be like heaven for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Stop your nonsense!” Steve sputters, his cheeks all red. “He doesn’t need anyone else in his staff! It’s already full!” </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, of course,” Bucky squints his eyes at him. “But, who knows?” He shrugs with a large teasing smile. “Someone could die, it would be very convenient. Be a replacement and all. Their manor is the perfect place to live in.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think I could bear it. Being close to him and still-”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Being inferior to him, serving him every day to finally see him being courted, married to someone else because that's how it will happen. Steve feels his blood runs cold just at the mere idea. He regrets not having the time to know him better when his family was a client of the bakery he was fired from. Steve still longs for the potential moments they could have shared together, all the conversations which will never take place, especially after what happened in the library. Yet, his practical sense dictates him it's preferable that Mr Stark remains a fantasy, if he wants to keep his feelings out of harm. </p><p>Bucky grimaces, he encircles one of his strong arms around Steve’s shoulders. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I understand. Let’s see. If you work for another family in the countryside, but not too far away from London so I can keep an eye on you, you’d be happier?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” Steve sighs in relief. “I’ll take anything, as long as I won’t need to stay inside the city. I’d feel safer if you could come with me.” </p><p> </p><p>“Alright. I’ll find something for the both of us.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Steve has no doubt Bucky will succeed.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>***</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Tony scribbles furiously on a large paper. His desk is a mess of drafts, shortened pencils, rules, compasses, and mathematical calculations regarding speed, displacement, and length. The rain pours outside of the window, the dark sky a stark contrast to the warm light of the candlelights. The rhythm of the raindrops soothes Tony’s mind so his focus is sharper than usual. He has been drawing and redrawing the schematics of an important merchant ship the whole day. Three large and strong masts, over 1700 tons burthen, much more than a regular Indiaman, heavily armed against privateers, pirates and potential ill-intentioned rival merchants. </p><p>His biggest problem relies on its velocity; the ship is too heavy and the cost of fabrication too high. Against a lighter and cheaper Dutch fluyt, his ship would fail against its competitors, even if it could bring a bigger cargo and has stronger protection from any enemy. He bites his nails, lost in thought. He could try to mix the two designs, finding an in-between, but that’s the safest and less interesting road, and Tony hates the safest roads for they bring nothing revolutionary on the table. It still unnerves him that no one has still taken any interest to bring these fascinating pumping and steam engines on the table. He found out about them when he had read some letters between Thomas Newcomen and his father, the latter wanting to improve the design of Mr Newcomen's engine, turning it into something less-wasting in energy with a brand new condenser. </p><p> </p><p>Tony marvels at all the possibilities behind these new machines his father has since spoken about for weeks, to the point he had left behind his designs of naval artillery and pistols so he can be engrossed in wheels, pumps and pistons. Sometimes, when no one is looking, he sketches machines from his wildest imagination, drawing small pieces like rotating cogs connected in a circular motion like a planet to its sun, the ensemble-driven by steam. These small pieces turn into big imaginary travel devices. In his mind, they look like a series of closed carriages made of metal, lead by a bigger one from where the fuming and pumping energy comes from and advancing at full speed thanks to strong wheels rolling on tracks. They would link all the cities of his Majesty’s lands so it would only take a few hours to travel instead of days. And, when he feels bolder, he dreams of the sky. He dreams of metallic ships as round as balloons, flying high thanks to steam, and transporting people without any risk of sinking or being struck by lightning. </p><p> </p><p>His father is always silent when he takes a look at Tony’s sketches. His eyes jump from a drawing to another so fast Tony can almost see the cogs in his mind turning.  His father is not a man of words, but his proud smile and the way he claps one of Tony’s shoulder before returning to his projects are more than enough. Letting Tony rummage in his workshop, turning a blind eye to all the books he takes and reads, tell a lot of how much he wants his Omega son to devour all the knowledge he needs. It's his way to help him in his research, and creation because they both know it’s for a short term. As long as Tony is under his Alpha father’s rule, he's only tolerated to help him and work for him. Yes, it’s unusual for a noble Omega to have these interests. But, as long as he marries and fulfils his role to another Alpha, where’s the harm to let him entertain himself? The young ones need to have their share of fun! Tony heard this from his mother’s friends many times in the past. It amused him, but it irks him now for he’s painfully aware of how his freedom is limited, how no one aside of his close family and a very few business partners takes him seriously. </p><p> </p><p>A tentative knock interrupts his thoughts. Jarvis’ sheepish expression peeks from behind the door. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I’m sorry to disturb you, sir. I wanted to inquire of anything you may need.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no Jarvis, it’s fine. But please, come in.” Tony invites him to a chair close to the wall with a motion of his hand.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Jarvis walks inside with a platter full of small cakes and a cup of tea. He puts it on the part of Tony’s desk which has not been assailed by any paper.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I see you have been extremely productive today, sir.” Jarvis nods in approval.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s nothing very conclusive, however, I’m afraid,” Tony says, his hands ruffling through his hair. He sighs dramatically. “Most of them are unfinished works. Dealing with ships is a much more complicated affair than designing rifles.”</p><p> </p><p>“And still, your father has taken your schematics from last week with him and presented it to Lord Stane. I’d say he hadn’t seen such an amazing idea coming from someone so young for a long time, sir!” Jarvis adds, his eyes twinkling with joy. “Rumours are spreading about the king himself. He had shown interest in meeting you and your father.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Tony flushes with pride at the mention of the king but he deflates rapidly. The king is too busy with that Jacobite rebellion to meet him and his father. This sounds like something his Majesty could have said in passing without any serious intent behind it. Besides, Tony sneers at the idea of being surrounded by the courtiers, who would listen to them, enraptured, but who would fail ultimately to understand or to challenge their ideas. As an Omega, he would just serve as a new form of entertainment. His father’s company takes most of the credit of the ships’ commissions anyway. His name doesn’t appear on any paper. He’s known only by reputation because noble Omegas are not supposed to work. </p><p> </p><p>Sensing Tony’s discomfort, Jarvis decides to stop talking. His gaze lands on the flowers of Lady Virginia Potts standing sluggishly in a long vase, with her book and letter underneath, still unopened. Tony follows the direction of his look and huffs. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I know what you’re going to say.” He rolls his eyes to the ceiling. </p><p> </p><p>“Sir. I would never allow myself to-” Jarvis claims in an offended tone. </p><p> </p><p>“Jarvis, please. We both know this kind of speech is quite outdated.” Tony chuckles. </p><p> </p><p>“It is true,” Jarvis sighs, then straightens himself. “Master Anthony, if I may, won’t you please honour the promise you made to your mother and answer Lady Potts?”</p><p> </p><p>“It left my notice but I swear I will-”</p><p> </p><p>“You said the same thing two weeks ago, sir.” Jarvis interrupts gently. “The poor Lady must think you're indifferent towards her. It is not a good thing for your feelings to be misunderstood by someone you wish to marry. Another Omega may come into the picture.”</p><p> </p><p>“I do not-” Tony starts to say. He wets his lips. “She’s agreeable but I don’t wish to marry anyone.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Jarvis sighs sadly. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“You made proof of that, sir. But it’s not something you should trifle with. Lady Virginia Potts may be the most tolerant and open-minded Alpha you have ever met. It’s unlikely you’ll meet someone better and you need protection.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Jarvis goes to the corner to sit on the chair, staring defiantly at Tony. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I will not leave this room until you read her letter and answer her. Any choice you make in what you’ll write to her Ladyship is yours and yours only, sir.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Tony taps on the paper with his pencil, his mouth twisting in opposite lines, but Jarvis makes no move to leave. Tony bites his lips in frustration, then turns around to reach for Lady Virginia Potts’ letter. At the corner of his eyes, he can see a glimpse of a very personal portrait he never showed to anyone before, hidden between the pages of a sketchbook. He’s not talented at all to draw human figures. Enginery is the only thing which has an appeal to him in picturing except Mr Rogers. It’s just a silhouette with two bright blue dots on a barely sketched face. Yet, the value Tony attaches to it is very strong. His eyes well up in tears as he pushes the sketch further away, so he doesn’t see it anymore. Then, he opens Lady Virginia Potts’ letter with shaking fingers. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Constructive and gentle criticism, kudos, encouraging comments are loved without moderation.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Constructive criticism, kudos and encouraging comments are loved without moderation.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>